Judge — November 20, 1920 — page 6: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Here « by W. R. Gaacrxen Turkey—I WAST My FUTCRY TOLD. Ozxl—Sour tive tx Novestwrn vou WILL MEET A DARK PARTY WHO LOVES YOU, NUT YOU WILL NEVER BE HAPPY wire im “Yet vour voici y looks familiar What tribe are Why, I am s Samuel, your husband!” What!” cried the mother. “What als cried Jonathan. “Yes, my own wife, itisT. It’s a long story and I'll just give you a sketch. I was captured by the Indians, but not killed or tortured. I lived with them. Today, with the help of a Indian. I painted my fac is and he loaned me his clothes. I escaped. Close the door while [ embrace you. These blue laws are awful.” “Welcome home, Samuel twice welcome,” cried the mother gazing at the turkeys. “But tell ere did you meet Jona- ” answered the returned one. “I was coming out of a thicket none too cautiously when I almost ran into him. He was pointing that wicked blunderbuss i my heart.” “Which end?” she askel breathlessly. “The one with the hole “Thank the Lord! To-day is blessed! My husband has bec returned to me and my son in his hour of trial aimed the right enc! of the gun. I thought he would never learn.” They all embraced. Tue “Now myson,”said the moth: FROM YOUR BUTCHER'S DESCKIPTION— science ving din- *Hang up your New England ( and we will cook our Thanks ner.” The son took it out and held it to- wards his father. ‘You did not miss it. father?” he asked “Tt is just as well, my son. Otherwise we might not have these two fine tur- keys” * Bring in another cord than,” said the mother replenishing.” “It's an omen, mother.” “Let's eat,” replied the The fire needs ! the son. ther En Passant By Weart Hounnoox Tre people on the street are as so many trees to him—s jostling trackless forest through which he makes his way unbewildered. His abstraction gives him the look of a poet. His youth gives him the look of a lover As he walks, his lips move, forming soundless words. Perhaps. on his way to his attic. he is repeating a fresh-caught lyric line lest it escape his pen. Perhaps, on his way to the bedside of his most-adored, he is murmuring a et that she may be spared to him Perhaps, on his way to a telephone booth, he is rehearsing the “hot line” he intends to hand Mayme The Species Human nature is a queer thing. There are persons who really believe dentist when he says: “Now, this won't hurt you a bit.” Drown by LC, Puyen WIRD YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE BUYING 6 The Kingdom of Apollo By Srviis Ve Keterasay HE World is young and strong, dear, You necd not feel so sorry; For it will wag along, dear, Without your fret and worry It was a World, for long, dear Before we came upon it; It went right on, and on, dear Without a single sonnet O naught ean hold it back, dear Our sorry tittle-tattle Is nothing more to it, dear ‘Than baby’s rubber rattle! The World will carry on, dear, Regardless of our chatter; It has a goal to gain, dear, Evolving mind from matter So wipe your tears away, ¢ Learn wisdom from the flow Upbuilding Beauty’s altar, it Achieves creative power! © let your heart be glad, dear, So glad that all would follow; For on the way you'll find, dear ‘The Kingdom of Apollo! Can Such Things Be? “Well, be certainly was very polite to you.” Certainly not! He merely used the polite formula.” “What do you mean,‘ polite formula? “The business formula, of course.” “What's that?” “Same as the crook’s. Which is to y, keep your victim’s mind well occupi on something else while you tix him.” AND AS IT TURNED OUT AFTER BFING COOKED